


Oh boy, don’t you have it bad for her?

by BecaAMM



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha John Winchester, Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Eventual Smut, F/M, Good Parent Bobby, Kitchen Sex, Knotting, Omega Reader, Parent Bobby, Protective Bobby Singer, Reader-Insert, Sam Has a Crush, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 07:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12127404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecaAMM/pseuds/BecaAMM
Summary: Ever since you were kids, Sam had a crush on you, unaware of your feelings about him. It takes an unexpected heat to make you admit your feelings for each other.





	Oh boy, don’t you have it bad for her?

“You like her,” Dean accused, making Sam jump and tear his eyes from you.

“Shut up,” the 13-year-old boy blushed.

Dean only laughed.

“Hey, dad,” he called John, who was just beside you and your own father.  “Sammy here…”

“Shut up, Dean,” the younger Winchester pushed his brother, his voice cracking for a moment and making his brother laugh even more.

“Stop annoying your brother, Dean,” John said, not giving him much attention before returning his eyes to you and Bobby.

Even being just 12, you were old enough for your dad to consider teaching you how to shoot and fight. You were Bobby’s daughter, a result of a sexual encounter between him and a Beta who didn’t want to be a mother. He had raised you all alone and in a very realistic and straight forward attitude. You never believed in myths – like Santa or the Tooth Fairy –, wore an anti-possession amulet, and had learned the alphabet with in a very  _particular_  way.

A stands for Amulet, B stands for Bobby, C stands for Crossroad, D stands for Demons, E stands for Ectoplasm, F stands for Fangs, and so on. Of course, that was something your preschool teacher didn’t really like and the topic of a really long meeting between your father and her/him. Bobby didn’t have the  _best_ parenting techniques but he loved you and always considered the world around the two of you. What he was teaching you, was a hundred times more useful than whatever school tried to put in your head.

Sam was the exact opposite of you, though, and it was something everyone saw  _from afar_. You hated books and your grades were just  _enough_  at school, not that Bobby cared anyway.

“Okay, we’re done for today,” your father said by your side, “go play with the boys, I and John will clean this up.”

You didn’t protest and ran to Sam and Dean’s side, your Y/H/C hair escaping from the loose braid you’d done hours earlier and making Sam smile.

“Hey,” he blushed some, smiling openly and making Dean chuckle.

“Hey,” you said back, “what are you doing?”

“Watching you,” Dean crossed his arms in front of his chest, “nice shooting there.”

“I think I know what I’m doing,” you gave him a cocky smirk and turned to Sam.

“You sure do. Right, Sammy?” he elbowed him.

The boy raised his eyebrows at his brother, clearly distracted by something, making his brother laugh, hitting the back of his head playfully and making you giggle.

“Sorry,” Sam blushed once again, “you are a really good shooter.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” you smiled at him, gaining a smile from him as well.

Sam didn’t really like being called  _Sammy_ but he really didn’t mind when you did it and Dean knew that. He would have never heard the end of that when they were alone.

The three of you stood in silence for a long moment and you shrugged lightly.

“Wanna eat?” you finally asked, breaking the silence.

“I’m starving,” Dean affirmed, following you to the kitchen and pushing his brother so he could do the same. He got it bad for you and you were the only one who didn’t notice it.

“He is head over heels for her,” John noticed as the three of you passed by him and Bobby.

“I know,” the old man looked in your direction, “I’m not sure if I like it or not.”

The other man frowned, crossing his arms, “Why?”

“Sam is an Alpha,” Bobby reminded him.  

“You think she may be an Alpha?” John frowned at Bobby’s statement.

“I’m a Beta, her mother was a Beta too. No doubt she is one too,” Bobby affirmed, “no offence but I’m not sure if I want her with an Alpha.”

The older Winchester didn’t say anything else. He was an Alpha too, as well as both his children and was aware of the stigma being his group carried; big, bad, violent men – and women – that rarely respected Omegas or Betas. To Bobby, he was an exception to this rule and he didn’t know if his boys would be too.

Sam didn’t care, though. He still wanted to spend all the time possible with you and when they had to leave the town, he couldn’t go without at least hugging you goodbye.

“I don’t think you should come in, boy,” Bobby said by the door before Sam could even step closer to the entrance of the house. John and Dean were waiting and watching in the car and were frowning by Bobby’s attitude.

“But we’re leaving,” Sam argued, almost whined like it was obvious, “I can’t leave without saying goodbye to her.”

“Sam, you can’t see her right now,” Bobby insisted again, “she’s not in a good condition right now.”

The boy frowned, now deeply concerned, and only noticed his father by his side when he touched his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” John asked, wanting to know what all of this was about.

“She’s presented,” he said, his face twisted in worry and John could now see he hadn’t slept the previous night.

“Alpha or Omega?” John questioned, not wanting to be  _that one person_ who instantly assumed a woman was an Omega.

“Omega.” They fell into silence and John squeezed his son’s shoulder.

“Come on, son,” he sighed after a long moment, “Y/N needs some time to herself.”

Sam frowned in annoyance, not understanding what the situation meant. Yes, he knew what happened when an Omega or Alpha presented and yes he knew what heats were but he also knew he didn’t need to worry. They were just kids, only adult Alphas were affected by Omega’s heats, and only when the Omega was an adult,  _right_?

“Can I at least write her a note?” Sam questioned.

Bobby looked at John for a couple of seconds and entered the house, coming out a minute later and bringing pen and paper with him, not that Sam noticed. When the air from inside the house touched him, he was completely focused on the best smell he had ever smelled. It was like  _your_ smell – soap, gun powder and something else only  _yours –_ but one hundred times better made his ears buzz and his heart race. He only noticed how Bobby was looking at him when he felt a poke from his father and quickly wrote something on the paper, folding it and giving it all back to Bobby.

“Thanks,” he muttered, “is she okay?”

“She’s gonna be fine.” The older man assured him. “Don’t worry.”

But Sam couldn’t  _not_ worry. You were on his mind for days and nothing could seem to get him out of a constant worried state.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Dean questioned, sitting on the motel bed in front of his brother after John left.

“Nothing,” Sam lied, not wanting to talk about it.

The other boy rolled his eyes.

“Come on, spill it out.”

The younger Winchester looked down at his hands, embarrassed and concerned like never before.

“You think Y/N is okay?”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Dean frowned.

“Bobby said she had presented,” he muttered, “this means she was in heat. I heard at school that it hurts a lot.”

“Bobby said she was gonna be fine,” Dean just shrugged and reminded his brother, “she’s just presenting. We all present some day.”

Sam blushed at the thought but dismissed it quickly.

“I just wanted to see her,” He affirmed in a protesting tone, clearly  _very_ annoyed that he couldn’t, “her birthday is tomorrow and I couldn’t even talk to her and say goodbye.”

Dean looked away for a moment, looking for words. He did understand how Sam was feeling. When he was his age he had also had a crush on an omega; the only difference was that she was his teacher and he was more  _aggressive_ than  _worried_  when it came to her being in any kind of danger – even if that danger was bumping into another boy or so.

“We are Alphas, Sam,” he pointed, “I know you really like Y/N but Bobby was just protecting her while her body is all crazy and stuff. It’s not you.”

Sam kept his annoyed face and Dean shook his head, giving his back a little pat.

“Oh boy, don’t you have it bad for her?’

“Shut up, jerk,” Sam muttered.

“Bitch.”

* * *

“You’re gonna open a hole in the door if you don’t stop staring,” Dean said with an annoyed tone as his brother looked at the door non-stopping. You were coming to the bunker – for real, to live with them – and Sam was focused on making it look at least decent for when you stepped in the place. Dean, of course, was very annoyed by his brother.

More than 20 years had passed since you’ve first met and your dynamic was still the same even after time had reshaped all three of you. After John’s death, the two boys had relied on you and Bobby to move on, and when your father passed away it was your time to depend on them. You were a family; a twisted, crazy and unlucky family, but a strong one too.

Sam’s crush on you had never changed and it had shaped most of his life. When he went to Stanford he still kept in contact with you – you would call one another almost every day – and he had never felt to anyone anything close to what he felt for you. Even with Jessica things never felt quite right and they never mated. He never felt she was his, not the way he felt with  _you_. Until this day, the scent of you in heat – the scent he had smelled almost 20 years earlier – was still in his mind, being the only thing, he really wanted.

However, he never acted on his feelings. When he was around you, Sam still felt like the clumsy kid that was all bony arms and terrified of breaking the bond you two had always had.  

“Shut up, Dean,” he rolled his hazel eyes at his brother and stood stiffly when he caught a small glimpse of your scent and stood up when the door opened to reveal a tired you.

“Honey, I’m home,” you joked, quoting a TV show you’ve watched a couple of times with the boys.

“Y/N,” Sam exclaimed, walking in your direction and pulling you into a tight hug that lifted you up and allowed you to bury your face on the crook of his neck and drink from his musky comforting scent.

“Come on, Sam,” you muttered against his skin, “I just drove for eight hours in a car with no AC and in the middle of the summer. I smell like…”

“I don’t care,” he muttered, squeezing you tightly.

You closed your eyes. You had missed Sammy. Every time you or the boys had to leave was painful and you felt it with him the most, you couldn’t think of  _living_ without him completely.  Sometimes you wished you could just drown in his smell and warmness every single day of your life and never leave.

“I’m here too, you know?” Dean cleared his throat, pulling you and Sam out of your little bubble and making the tall man blush in embarrassment like the kid he still was.

“Hello, Dean,” you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest, as affectionate as you’ve tried to be with him, missing the look of jealousy and possessiveness from Sam towards his brother.

“Wow, you stink,” he accused, “eight hours? More like eight days.”

“Fuck you,” you laughed, making Dean smile.

“Okay, okay,” he kissed your forehead, “now let me go, Sam is about to shoot me.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and let him go, looking back at a flushed Sam. You almost believed he was jealous.

“I’ll show you your room,” Sam touched your shoulder affectionately and you gave your car keys to Dean, so he could park it properly.

Sam guided you through a corridor and stopped in front of a door numbered at 20.

“My room is the 21st,” he pointed over, “I cleaned up for you and got you some fine furniture but I couldn’t make it yours. That’s your job.”

You smiled and yelped when he hugged you again, tight and silently for a long moment.

“I missed you,” he whispered, “I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too, Sammy,” you caressed his hair gently, “now let me go, I need to shower.”

He released you hesitantly and gave his arm a light squeeze.

“Can I borrow something from you while Dean parks my car and messes with my stuff?”

“You know you do,” Sam smiled sweetly and you followed him to his own room, looking around as Sam picked up something for you to wear and then walked you to the bathroom.

You closed your eyes as the water fell on your body, using the available shower gel to clean the sweat from your skin until the stink left you. Once you got out you dried your skin and put on the boxers and flannel Sam had borrowed you, falling in his scent again and closing your eyes for a moment.

You loved Sam. You loved Sam deeply ever since you were a kid. When you were a kid, your father had told you about true mates and you  _knew_ Sam was yours. You needed him but never told him anything about that, posing by his side and being his best friend. You knew about Jess and knew he loved her and probably hadn’t moved on from her loss yet. He had lost his mate, for God’s sake, you couldn’t just try to replace her.

“Y/N, are you hungry?” Sam called from outside and you opened the door, your dirty laundry and the used towel in your hand. “Oh… Wow.”

“What?” you frowned, ignoring the warmth crawling to your cheeks as he moved his eyes away.

“Are you hungry?” he questioned again.

“Starving.”

When you walked behind Sam and sat by the table, Dean looked at you two with arched eyebrows.

“Did you find anything you like there?” you questioned to your friend and he shrugged.

“You have some pretty lacy things there. Sammy would probably love to give them a look.”

“Believe me or not, I look a lot better naked than with them on,” you winked at him.

“I think he is a bit more interested in this than me, sweetheart,” Dean smirked at you and winked, “right?”

“Shut up, Dean,” his brother said from the other room and you chuckled, walking to the kitchen to watch the other Winchester.  
  
“You’ve got a haircut,” Sam pointed out, looking behind himself when you came in. You sat on the island behind him.

“Didn’t think you would notice but I think nothing surprises you, huh?”

You saw his shoulders shake softly when he chuckled and wondered why he always cared that much about such small details about you. Unaware of your location, Sam turned around just to be met by a distracted you. 

“You smell different,” He muttered and you touched your own thighs, feeling your skin warmer than normal. 

“ _Good_  different?“ 

"Different,” he looked away. You smelt delicious - even sweeter than normal actually - but he wouldn’t mention that; he didn’t want to sound like a creep. 

“I had some bad times this last 2 weeks, it is probably because of it,” you just shrugged.

He didn’t answer and you made a face when a cramp broke inside you and Sam quickly mobbed closer to you, his huge body hovering over yours and a concerned look on his sculptured face. 

“Are you okay?” He questioned and your body reacted to him instantly,

_Too close._ Your mind pointed quickly as a fresh wave of wetness coated the inside of your legs and your mouth watered. Sam also reacted to it, moaning darkly and grabbing your thighs on his hands.

“ _Y/N_ …” he looked into your eyes, his voice thick and rough in arousal. It took you a second to realize what was happening. You were in heat.

With the stressful hunt that took you the latest two weeks, you’ve completely forgotten to take your suppressants and you were having your first heat in  _10 years_.

You were ready to say something to Sam but he didn’t let you as his head fell on your shoulder and he inhaled deeply.

“ _You smell so good_ ,” one of his hands moved from your thighs to your back. “Dammit, your scent has always been so sweet but right now…”

You moaned when Sam pulled you closer to his body, his warmth – plus your heat – sending you into a hot messy horny state. You’ve always wanted Sam but you knew he only saw you as a sister.

"You don’t want me, Sam,” you pressed yourself against him as he licked and nipped on your neck tortuously, using all of his willpower not to tear your clothes open, fuck you and mate you right there in the kitchen. In response, he tugged on your hand gently and moved it to his crotch, his cock pressing against the seam of his pants, painfully hard.

“ _Been wanting you since we were teens, Y/N,_ ” Sam told you, moving his head so he could look into your eyes.

The hand on your back moved underneath your shirt -  _his shirt_  - to find your naked breast, cupping it and brushing his thumb over your hard nipple.

“20 years since I took in your scent for the first time and it still haunts my wildest dreams.”

“You do?” you questioned in a moan and whimpered when you felt another cramp break you. Damn, that would be a hard one.

Sam didn’t answer but kissed you and this was what triggered both of you. His lips were dominant over yours and his hand on your breast started twisting and pinching your nipple while you tried to be as close as possible to him. At some point, you had even started to grind against his crotch and could feel your skin being coated over and over with slick.

When you moved your lips from his to take a breath, Sam instantly started kissing the way down your neck and collarbones, sucking every inch of available skin and finding pleasure in seeing you trying to get any friction between your legs, chuckling when you jumped at the way his hands aggressively tore his shirt open to reveal your naked torso.

“Sam,” you whined when he stepped back to pull on your shorts –  _his boxers_  –, allowing you to see the mildly wet spot you’ve left on his crotch from your efforts on trying to grind on him.

“ _Gonna take good care of you_ ,” Sam whispered, pulling you so you could sit on the edge of the island and spread your legs further. “Want you for so long…”

You moaned softly and he moved a large hand to your legs, spreading them as wide as he could and taking a deep breath as the smell of your arousal filled the air freely and he kissed you again, violently. In normal circumstances, you would probably take your time but every second you spent with Sam was making you crave more and more of him. When he finally got rid of his shirt, you moved your hands to open his pants, impatient with his  _slow_ pace.

Sam moved a large hand to your pussy, making you moan softly as he penetrated you and took a deep breath as the smell of your arousal filled the air freely before he violently kissed you again.

If Sam’s  _kiss_  was something, his oral sex skills could only be described as heaven. The way his tongue moved –creating little patterns on your folds – and his lips sucked on your clit, had you tipping close to the edge almost instantly, and when he inserted two thick fingers inside you, you couldn’t help but scream.

“Sam,” you threw your head back, hips trying to move under his grip, “fuck, I’m gonna… Sam!”

He only moaned against you, the sound making you shake as one more finger entered you while he focused on making you cum on his tongue. Your smell was intoxicating but your taste was by far the best thing he had ever had in his life. He could stay on his knees for hours, feasting on you and listening to how you reacted to him.

You squeezed the edges of the kitchen island tight, the blood running away from your fingers.

“Fuck, gonna…” you pushed your hips against his face, “gonna cum, Sam.”

He moved his lips from you for a split of a second, “Cum for me.”

His lips moved to your clit again and it was all it took for you to cum for him, screaming his name aloud and not even caring about it.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, standing up but never stopping to move his fingers, “so sweet.”

When you looked at him, you could only moan by the way his lips and chin were covered with your slick, noticing how Sam actually enjoyed it.

“Please…” you begged, body still shaking from the previous orgasm as Sam still fucked you with his fingers.

“Not yet,” he leaned down, kissing your stomach, “don’t wanna hurt you.”

“But I need your cock,” You cried and moaned when you felt his fingertips meeting your sweet spot, “please, give me your cock. Please, fuck me. Sam, please.  _Please_.”

“Just one more time, baby.”

“No,” you pushed against his hand, your body language not matching your words, “need your cock, need your knot inside me. Please, please  _Alpha_.”

That seemed to be what he needed to hear. As soon as he heard you calling him by his presentation, Sam growled inside his chest and pulled your hand from you, standing up and grabbing you by your asscheeks.

“Say it again,” Sam demanded, looking into your eyes, both of your pupils dilated and faces hot with desire.

“Please, Alpha. Fuck me, give me your cock.”

You had never had an Alpha before and Sam knew that, so he used all of his control to penetrate you slowly and gently, moaning when he felt your walls squeezing his cock tightly, embracing him like he belonged inside you.

Sam was  _huge._ It was uncomfortable at first and he seemed to understand it, gently kissing every piece of skin he could find.

“Fuck, omega,” he groaned against your lips, “you’re so tight. So hot.  _Made just for me,_ just for my cock.”

You’ve never felt so full or complete.  

“Do you have any idea of how long I’ve wanted you,” he held your face again, making you look at him, “smelt your scent right in your first heat, we were just bony teens.”

You closed your eyes, resting your forehead on his.

“Dreamt of you for so long. Dreamt of  _this_ for so long,” Sam held you close, “ _my Omega.”_

“Alpha,” you cried softly, “need you.”

He didn’t flinch. In an instant, his hips started moving and he slammed his cock in and out of you, stretching you open and bringing pleasure to both of you.

“Gonna make you cum so hard on my cock,” Sam promised and groaned, “take you every day of your heat and make you cum so many times you’ll forget your own name.”

You only moaned in response, holding his shoulders tightly as he pushed his cock inside you, reaching every place no one else had ever reached and made it hard for you to even think.

“Alpha…” you pulled on his hair, “I can’t… I need…”

“Cum for me, Omega,” he moved his hand to where your bodies met, rubbing your clit, “cum around my cock!”

“Mate me, Alpha,” you begged him, “wanna be yours.”

“Are you sure?” Sam’s eyes widened but he didn’t stop.

“I’m sure, please, please,” you clung to him, begging desperately, “Alpha, please.”

Sam didn’t need to hear that twice and, as he buried his cock deeper inside you, harder.

“Gonna make you cum on my cock first, Omega,” he kissed your neck, “felt so good cumming on my fingers and my mouth… Gotta… Need this tight pussy squeezing me hard. Can you do this for me? Can you cum for your Alpha?”

The moment those words left his lips, you knew you were doomed.

“Sam,” you buried your face into his neck, your whole body searching your orgasm desperately and your teeth  _pulsing_ to get into his skin.

“That’s it,” Sam groaned when he felt your walls starting to squeeze him tighter. “Fuck… Not gonna last long. Want my knot? Want me to knot you when you cum?”

“Yes,” you cried out in pleasure.

Everything happened fast and slow at that exact moment. When his knot started to form inside you, you came with a loud, shameless cry and buried your teeth deep in his neck, breaking the skin and marking him as yours at the same time he marked you as his.

You two panted for a long time and you licked his wound softly. After a few more minutes, Sam finally pulled away to look at you, smiling when he saw just how he had worn you out.

“So long ago?” you murmured slightly and he nodded.

“I think I’m still not over the day your dad said I couldn’t come into the house because you were in heat. You?”

You tried not to look away in embarrassment.

“Ever since I laid eyes on you for the first time,” you muttered and his smile only seemed to grow.

You rested your face on his chest, trying to calm your breathing when you realized just where you were.

“Sam… We’re in the kitchen,” you yawned at him, making him look around.

“Okay, brace yourself,” Sam instructed and you held onto his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around you.

Struggling to walk with his pants the half way down his knees and his knot connecting the two of you, Sam was grateful Dean wasn’t in the room when you two came out, and you had time to reach for a piece of paper taped to the wall in the hallway.

“I’m out.” You read in Dean’s handwriting. “Clean the kitchen with acid when you’re done.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and Sam did the same, kissing your temple when you rested on his body again, letting the note go.

“Take a nap,” he instructed, “I’ll take care of everything else.”  

You only nodded, knowing you should be grateful for every single moment of sleep you could get during this heat. The last thing you remembered hearing was Sam’s voice and wished you could have answered him before falling asleep completely.

“I love you, little Omega.”


End file.
